The Epic Tale of Gloridia Elvenwitch
by Ridley the Violator
Summary: My interpretation of bad Lord of the Rings fan fiction.  Warning: contains rapists!


Gloridia Elvenwitch awoke in a green field of grass, gasping. What had happened? Moments ago she had been trapped in the Dark Lord Sauron's evil dungeons with the hungry eyes of the Uri-kai guard's boring into her soft, supple flesh. Then a bright light had surrounded her and she had found herself in a green field.

She had always been a rebellious young woman. Her father and mother and brothers had all tried to make her conform to their beliefs, and so had the village elders who had selected her to become part of the village's elite trained fighting force where she had mastered every weapon with a blade and beaten all the boys in the village and possibly the country.

She had been a vampire for as along back as she could remember. Unlike other vampires, she did not have to drink human blood and sunlight did not affect her at all. She was in fact a vegetarian and loved all animals, but the boys of the village had always been afraid of someone who was stronger than them.

As well as being a vampire she was also cursed with a lust curse, which made every male that wasn't either old or non-human lust after her. She hated, hated, hated being the center of attention all the time. That was why she had had to learn to protect herself, because somebody tried to rape her approximately every 5.9 seconds. The only way she could break the effects of the curse was to have sex, but she never wanted to soil herself with a man; she had been fighting them all her life.

Coincidentally her curse also gave her enhanced physical strength, intelligence, and the ability to talk to animals.

She heard the sounds of a horse's hooves approaching. An incredibly attractive young man on a white horse came up the hill. He had long blonde flowing hair and blue eyes, and from his characteristically long pointy ears Gloridia could tell that he was an elf.

"How there, fair lass," said the young man in a smooth voice.

"Who the hell are you!" Gloridia hissed, swatting aside a rapist. "You can't just go around teleporting people around you bastard!" It was just like when her foster father had teleported and then raped her.

"My lady," said Legolas, looking abashed, "Did I not save you from the defiling hands of the Urik-Kay?"

"It's the principle of the thing," she snapped at him. "It's not right its wrong!"

"I am deeply sorry," said Legolas, rolling his eyes.

"How did you bring me here anyways?" asked Gloridia, somehow knowing that he did not have magical powers despite never seeing him before in her life.

An old man appeared.

"I am Gandalf the White. I saved you, Gloridia Elvenwitch, because an ancient prophecy has forewarned me of a very special girl with incredible powers who will visit upon us. Naturally I had to make sure that I was here to greet her!"

"You don't control me," hissed Gloridia as she stabbed a passing rapist. "A woman should be able to make her own decisions." She stalked away.

Legolas stared at her retreating back. He fingered his bow and glanced at Gandalf. "Can I kill her?"

"No," said the wizard. "Aragorn might get mad. She does not know the truth of her destiny and who her true family is."

Legolas gaped at him. "What?"

Gloridia was lost in the forest. Black gnarled trees erupted from the ground in diseased clusters, looking like the dead tangled legs of a spider. A thin mist smelling of rot and filth hung over the area. Gigantic cobwebs hung thickly over tree branches, clumping strands that dripped the liquefied innards of those trapped in them. Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled, then cried out as something ate it alive. Just behind a line of bushes she heard something dragging, dragging, pulling itself across the dead leaves and broken tree roots, navigating the maze of puckered, sucking swamp holes.

"At least I'm away from those controlling men," said Gloridia. She hit a rapist.

Something moved in front of her. It was a man with dark hair and dark eyes, a smooth pale complexion, and tight black leather clothing. He seemed unusually hairy and masculine for a man. His clothing was ripped and tattered in places that revealed pale soft muscled flesh, and his eyes had a feral gleam to them. "You shouldn't be out here," he said. "It's dangerous."

She put her hands on her hips and hissed, "Was that a threat?" She brushed her long black hair aside and adjusted her black mithril vest, lightly touching the pommel of her deadly elven short sword to show she meant business.

The mysterious man's eyes went wide with awe. "You are the one prophecieizieid!"

"Huh?" Gloridia snapped. "What are you talking about!"

"I must accompany you," said the man.

"Who are you?" she hissed.

"Call me Martin, my lady. I live to serve your every wish."

She flushed. "If this is some sort of come on…"

"Oh, my apologies," said Martin, flushing as well and looking extremely embarrassed. "No, I swear, I have no interest in you—"

"YOU MEAN I'M NOT PRETTY?" roared Gloridia, drawing her sword and kicking Martin. In moments she had the seven foot tall three hundred pound man at the point of her sword. "Take it back!" she hissed.

"AHH!" Martin held his hands up in submission. "Okay, okay. I didn't mean it like that."

Gloridia smiled. "Okay," she snapped, disemboweling a random rapist. "Lets go!"

"Wait, there is one thing you must know before we go," continued Gloridia. "I am a vampire. Do not be afraid, I won't hurt you, unless you annoy me."

"Okay," said Martin meekly.

From in the shadows a mysterious figure watched.

Gloridia entered the bar, Martin in toe. Everyone in the bar was a man, and they all stank of lust and drink as every single one of them turned and leered suggestively at her in unison, including the small ten year old and the dog in the corner who was as in fact female.

"Eh there lass," said the bartender, looking down her shirt at her breasts. She slapped him and he calmed down. There were mutterings around the bar.

"Why does everyone lust after you so?" lamented Martin.

"I've been under a lust curse for as long far back as I can remember," snapped Gloridia. "I hate being the center of attention all the time and the object of desire for every male person in the room that isn't either old or non human."

"Huh," said Martin, wondering.

"I wonder why you aren't affected," mused Gloridia, knocking out an approaching rapist. "You don't look old, and you do look human."

"Yes," said Martin, adjusting his torn clothing with his long sharp wolf like nails and moving his feral eyes shiftily. "I certainly am human, and not a werewolf."

"I know." Gloridia turned away dismissively from him.

"Hello miss," said a voice from behind her. Someone grabbed her shoulder.

Instantly she whirled and broke the man's wrist. He screamed. It was a man wearing dark clothing and a sword and black hair with a manly stubble.

"What the hell do you want?" snapped Gloridia, preparing to break his neck.

"I am Aragorn," said the man, straightening up with fear in his eyes at the powerful woman before him. "I are you the legendary woman called Gloridia?"

"Who wants to know?" she asked.

"I have something incredibly important to tell you," began Aragorn.

Suddenly the bartender took off his mask. It was an orc! He stabbed Aragorn in the chest. He collapsed, and Gloridia knelt down beside him.

"You must…get to…the King," choked out Aragorn. "And tell him…who you are…you are **special**."

He died.

Gloridia drew her sword, but before she could single handedly kill every ork in the bar—who had all taken off their masks as well, even the dog, the roof exploded.

A dragon stuck its head in.

"Hello madame," it said to Gloridia respectfully. "You look like you might be in need of some assistance."

"No thanks," said Gloridia, "I can handle these clowns on my own."

She then waded into the mob of twenty three angry orcs, Martin by her side, and killed all of them. She walked back to the stunned and impressed dragon without a single scratch on her body.

"I am impressed," said the ten ton metal scaled fire breathing monstrosity from hell. "You may call me Fog, son of Smaug."

Gloridia and Martin climbed on its back. Gloridia had to kick a rapist off as he tried to climb on. They took flight and she spoke to Fog.

"You will serve me now, Dragon, for one of my special powers is being able to talk to dragons. Take us to the King," said Gloridia.

"I shall serve you, mistress" said the dragon.

Then it flipped over mid flight, and Gloridia fell to earth and died instantly. Martin hung on and the dragon dropped him off at the Denny's down the road.

Several hours later the dragon alighted next to Legolas.

"I did her," said the Dragon. "It's done." Legolas handed it some money.

"Good job," he said. "Now make sure nobody sees you leave. And if you tell anyone about this, you're dead." He fingered his bow.

"Don't insult me, lady," said the Dragon. "I am a professional." He put on some dragon sunglasses and walked out of the café. Legolas watched as the Dragon got into a black sports car and drove away. Legolas chuckled and reached up to carefully he take off his mask…beneath it was the face of a rapist.


End file.
